スケート選手の回顧録 (Memoirs of a Skater)
Yesterday was Go Skate Day. I suppose in the US right now it's still Go Skate Day, so if you haven't already go outside and get your skate on!
Ok...everyone all skated out? Then gather round as I regale you with the tale of my last day on a skateboard. For some of you this may be old news. For others it may finally answer the age old question of why Ron has a huge scar running down his right wrist.
Now I know time and time again I saw I was living in DC before I came to Japan, but the reality is a wee bit different. I was actually living in a suburb of DC called Landover with a friend of mine. If you've ever watched football the name Landover may be familiar to you: it's home to FedEX Field where the Washington Redskins play. I did, however, still work in DC and conveniently enough I lived across the street from a Metro (subway) station that went right to where my job was. I normally would just walk over to the station, catch the train, and call it a day. But for some reason I decided it'd be a better idea to start skateboarding over to the train station instead. I mean wheels are faster than legs, right? Right.
This particular day I decided to skate to the station I also had to bring my MacBook with me to do some design work. Lesson #1 when skateboarding: don't carry anything on your back that could potentially fuck up your balance or break into zillions of pieces should you fall. Things started out fine and dandy, but as I got closer to the station I ran over a crack in the sidewalk that sent me flying. Not wanting to fuck up my computer, I landed hella awkwardly and BAM! All I remember is hearing a loud cracking noise and looking down at my right hand to see it bleeding my immobile. But then I thought...it'll be fine! And got my happy ass on the train anyway! Oh, and if you're wondering, my computer did survive the fall just fine (yay!).
My wrist was killing me on the way into work and when I actually arrived at the office it was immediately decided I should get the fuck out and go see a doctor. My dad was kind enough to pick me up and take me down to Washington Hospital Center where it was confirmed that my wrist was broken. I thought the next stop would be getting a cast and letting that bitch heal for a few weeks, but no. It was so badly damaged I had to have surgery. That was actually kind of fun. I just remember the really nice nurse telling me to take a deep breath, then waking up in a hospital room in the middle of the night. Now I've got this scar and a metal plate in my wrist to show for it. I even have to carry a card in my wallet in case a metal detector goes off telling people there's metal inside me and that I'm not trying to tote guns into the airport. Swag.
Funnily enough, breaking my wrist may have been a blessing in disguise. It delayed my trip to Japan by a month, and without the extra time I may have had to flee the country before getting my proper work visa. I left my skateboard back in DC. Sometimes I regret it, sometimes I don't. The weather here is usually so nice that I could skate every day of the week. But I don't have insurance here, and I did when I fell the last time. So for now I wait and think about the good ole days when I'd go out at midnight to skate in the Metro parking lot and ollie over speed bumps.